


Finding Granger

by TheImperfectionista



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dramione Fanfiction Writers's Trope Fest 2019, F/M, Pureblood Hermione Granger, dramione - Freeform, pureblood, trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-06 08:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21223709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheImperfectionista/pseuds/TheImperfectionista
Summary: When the Ministry introduced the Pureblood Reparations Act, Hermione found herself with a tax bill for being Pureblood. Despite being told she qualified for an exemption, the witch began a search for the truth of her ancestry with the most unlikely financier of her journey.Written for Dramione Fanfiction Writer Trope Fest 2019





	1. Who Is Hermione Granger?

**5 November 13:17pm**

It was getting harder and harder for Hermione to contain her annoyance with her ever-evaporating patience. Seventeen minutes and counting since the bureaucrat left his post from behind the counter to find her files. It didn’t help that Ron wouldn’t shut up about the wait cutting into his lunch time. 

“I hope they still have a corner piece of Shepherd’s pie left for me. If not, do you think they would have any bangers and mash?” Ron asked as his stomach grumbled loudly  _ again _ .

Hermione sighed heavily, ready to snap at him to shut up about food. The only reason he was here in the first place was because he insisted on tagging along, even when she was perfectly capable of handling the situation herself.

The door going into the Bureau of Assets and Taxation Services (B.A.T.S.) opened. Any hopes it was the balding, moustached man who was ‘looking into her case’ were dashed. Looking like epitome of overprivileged snobbery in tailored robes, walked Draco Malfoy. His platinum blond hair was carefully disarranged to look like he woke up like that.

On instinct from years of mutual hatred, both Ron and Malfoy drew their wands out to each other.

“Ron! Malfoy! Put your wands down at once.” Hermione snapped. “We are in the Ministry of Magic so behave like respectable adults.”

“Yes, Weasel.” Malfoy drawled lazily. “You should listen to your girlfriend more often, it might make you deaf sooner than later.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. Whatever business you have in here, just get it done and stay clear.”

Honestly could her lunch hour get any worse? Right on cue, the door to the newly formed department swung open and the bureaucrat bustled in, his arms full of purple files. Discoloured folders were dropped onto the counter, Julian – Hermione gathered from his name tag – licked his thumb before flipping through reams of yellowed parchment.

“It seems Miss Granger that no error has been made. According to the documentation, you are related to two Pureblood families on record. Therefore you qualify for the Pureblood Reparations Act.”

Hermione stared in disbelief. The far too serious Julian must be pulling her leg. It couldn’t be true.

“But Hermione’s a war hero, doesn't she also qualify for the exception clause?” Ron asked, as if not too bothered by the world-shattering revelation.

“Yes, she would need to fill out B.A.T.S. form E, section 3.7 and 9.4. which could take a few weeks to process and reimburse her for any taxes she has paid already.” Explained Julian dryly as he slowly pulled out a green form for them.

“This is absolute bullshit.” Shouted Malfoy, bringing her out of her shock.

“Malfoy, just back off and mind your own business!” Hermione drew out her wand, ready to expel the blond ferret from the room. Of all the people in the world, he was the last person she wanted to witness  _ this  _ fiasco.

“We do not tolerate any verbal or physical harassment to staff or other visitors in this department. Otherwise you will be prosecuted by the Wizengamot.” Julian recited from the large pink and yellow poster beside his head.

Ron and Hermione glared back at Malfoy as their wands were tucked away. 

“Julian, surely there’s some mistake in the paperwork.” Hermione stopped short, as the bald man glared at her with indignation. “Suppose there is one, hypothetically, what evidence do you need to see to prove it?” Surely there’s some way to tell this weary man that she is exactly who she is.

“There are no errors in this. It is foolproof.” He slammed her files close and placed the green form between them. “You can return this form at a later time and we will take your application from there.”

“Seriously Hermione, it’s not a big deal. At least you’re not going to pay this stupid tax, just like me and Harry.”

“I guess you would have to whore out your sister in order to afford it.” Butted in Malfoy.

Julian coughed loudly and rapped his finger against the garish pink and yellow poster on harassment. Ron had turned into a beetroot red before storming out of the office, the door slammed loudly after him.

Malfoy sneered at Hermione, filling her with utter loathing at the blond git.

“I’d paid good money for you to prove you’re not Pureblood after all.” He said to her. 

Hermione could hear Julian rapping his fingers against the anti-harassment poster on the wall. Snatching up the green forms, she stormed out of the office. Unlike Ron, she wasn’t going to head for the canteen.

**5 November 17:04pm**

“It’s the principle of it, Kingsley! That’s why I’m angry.”

Pacing back and forth in Kingsley Shacklebolt’s office, Hermione had raised a complaint against Julian’s behaviour. Which had led her being called to the Minister’s office that evening. For such a dry person, the bureaucrat was well connected.

“The Pureblood Reparations Act was voted in overwhelmingly by the Wizengamot. There’s not much I could do to change the law.” Kingsley sighed as he watched the brunette rant. “My hands are tied but I could speak to your manager to give you an extended leave, so you can do some research on your heritage.”

“This is ridiculous! I know who I am. I am a Mud-”

“Muggle-born. Don’t say that other word.” Warned Kingsley.

“No, I’m a Mudblood and proud.” Throwing her arms in the air, she let out a large sigh of exasperation. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Perhaps you should research into your heritage, do you even know which Pureblood families they said you’re related to?”

“No.”

“See if you can get into the registry and find out.”

**6 November 08:30am **

“Draco Malfoy.” A woman shrieked his name and when Draco turned round, he was displeased to see the recognisable nest of brown curls of Hermione Granger. Other people on the busy street of Diagon Alley glanced oddly at the commotion. She stormed up to him with a frown that was similar to the day a few years ago when she slapped him in the face.

“What do you want?” His hand gripped his wand tightly in his pocket, in case she really did want to mark his face again.

“You said you will pay good money to prove I’m not a Pureblood.” Her finger poked him sharply in the chest. Draco noticed how petite she was and it was easy to look down his nose at her, putting on his best impression of not being as terrified of her as he was.

“So what if I did, Granger?”

Whatever he was expecting, insults, vitriol or even a hex, Draco didn’t expect what she was going to say next.

“You need to help me prove I’m not a Pureblood.”

The blond was taken aback. Did she really mean what she had just said? Never in his life had he thought that anyone would want to  _ not _ be a Pureblood.

“Come again, Granger?”

“I said I need your help, and therefore the money you said you would pay, to help me prove that I am a Muggleborn and not Pureblood like you.”

“No thank you.” He began to walk away when she tugged at his sleeve sharply.

“Why not? Isn’t the very idea of me being a Pureblood against your beliefs?”

“I have spent my childhood under Potter’s and your shadows. I want nothing to do with you all.”

“What if we struck a deal? Like getting you through the Exceptions Clause?”

“I’m listening Granger. What would you do to help me and my family out of the Pureblood Reparations Act?”

“I could help you file the paperwork and provide the necessary evidence. If you help me.”

“I’ll send you an owl with my decision.”

Turning away from the bushy-haired witch, Draco left with a great deal of information to process.

**11 November 07:05am**

The rest of Hermione’s day since speaking to Malfoy had been an anxious one. By the time she went to bed, she had left her bedroom window partially open in case Malfoy’s owl arrived while she was asleep. However when she woke with the sun in her eyes, no owl or letter was nowhere to be seen.

By the fourth day, just as she was about to have a nervous breakdown while making her first cup of tea, an eagle owl tapped loudly at her kitchen window. Hermione practically sprinted for the latch and threw open the window. The owl glared at her with its yellow eyes and dropped the letter in her hands before flying away immediately.

Tearing open the letter, she read its contents, written in perfect script as she poured her tea.

_ I’ll do it. Only if you have a plan. Hogshead, tonight at 7. _

Hermione folded the letter neatly before throwing it away. She had a lot of work to do before her evening with Malfoy.

**11 November 06:59pm**

Draco was nursing a Firewhisky when Granger walked into Hogshead. He chose the pub for the lack of patrons, except for the watchful eye of the proprietor.

Hermione Granger in her twenties was slightly different from the schoolgirl Granger he knew. She seemed more collected and had a more professional look about her. Taming her bushy hair into a ponytail and wearing tailored robes over neat skirts and blouses certainly helped. There wasn’t anything particularly flattering to her appearance, Draco most certainly thought she was still rather prim. However, she walked around with an air of humility as opposed to the way she used to jut her chin up like she knew more than anybody else. It used to drive him crazy. Who did this up-shot Mudblood think she was? She’d read the books about magic, but she didn’t spend her whole life around it like Draco did.

It was even more frustrating when, as the years went by at Hogwarts, she had bested him in every subject, except flying. It didn’t make sense why she was so damn brilliant. Hermione Granger was an anomaly to the belief he was brought up with. An unexplainable phenomenon. However, recent revelation to her Pureblood heritage half explained why she was so brilliant.

The past few days, he had thought of many different theories as to why she was brought up as a Muggle. None of which made sense and were absurd. Driven mad by this puzzle, he decided to take up on her offer.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Hermione mumbled as she dumped, what Draco thought, was a hideous oversized yellow bag on the chair between them.

She shouted her order at the proprietor who’s scowl did not diminish as he poured a butterbeer for her. They sat in silence as Hermione pulled out scrolls, an inkpot, and quill while they waited for her drink to arrive. Draco was not in the mood for small talk at this point.

“Let’s get to the point and you can show me your plan.” Draco said before draining the rest of his glass.

The witch next to him unravelled a three foot long roll of parchment and started to recite from it.

“I’ve come up with a method which can systematically track my ancestry starting with my parents. We need to go see them.”

“Granger, there’s no ‘we’ in this.” He was willing to offer assistance, not to be completely involved in her plan.

“If you want to help, then you are coming along. We need to use your funds to pay for transportation, lodging, etc, so you should see what it’s being spent. For transparency.”

“Fine.” He replied reluctantly. He knew Granger wouldn’t run off with his money, but it would be good to know she would not be whittling away his money on champagne and caviar.

“What can  _ we  _ get from your parents?”

Granger read from her notes. “We will take bodily samples, such as a strand of hair and we test whether they’re my real parents or not.”

“That would test my theory whether you’re adopted or not.” It did sound rather reasonable.

“So once we have established whether they’re my parents or not, we need to also gain access to the files B.A.T.S. have which would tell me which family I’m supposedly related to.”

“Shouldn't be too hard.”

“I’ve tried already and apparently the files are highly confidential. No other person can see the files, except for workers in the B.A.T.S. and even when they do – there are security measures such as they have to be in the presence of the person stated in the file and only for the allotted appointment time slot. Then they have their memories of what they have seen every week obliviated for confidentiality.”

“Can we bribe someone in B.A.T.S.?”

“Does Julian look like someone who can be bribed?”

Thinking of the terrifyingly dull man who could put Professor Binns to sleep, it didn’t strike Draco that this was a wizard who would succumb to a heavy pile of galleons.

“Suppose not. Do you have any alternative ideas?”

“Not sure yet, but we will figure it out along the way.”

“That’s your entire plan?” He said derivatively.

“You only gave me today to figure this out.”

“Ok, so what do you need to set this plan in place and when do we go?”

**18 November 07:14am**

Draco arrived punctually at the address Hermione gave him. The neat rows of whitewashed townhouses with perfectly painted black doors were empty. The houses looked small in Draco’s opinion, but he supposed Granger wouldn’t be able to afford anything more than these.

Ringing the doorbell to the seventh house, he waited for the chime to play it’s simple jingle before the thudding of footsteps could be heard and the door opened.

“Malfoy you’re early. Come in and wait in the living room.”

Draco’s eyes widened as Granger greeted him with a pink towel wrapped around her head and a larger towel was wrapped around her wet form.

“You said seven fifteen.”

“No, I said seven fifty.” While he let himself and his trunk into her house, Granger was already sprinting back up the stairs. Which only made him notice that the towel was far shorter than he had originally thought, when he realized he could see the back of her shapely bare thighs.

Moving himself into the room closest to him, Draco looked around to study Granger’s home. All the furniture looked lived in, yet everything was rather neat and well kept. A large ginger cat was curled up on the armchair, it’s flat face eyed him suspiciously. There were pictures of her with two adults, the man had a warm presence and the older woman shared the witch’s dark brown hair colour. These must be the Grangers, Draco thought. While it was odd to him that the photographs did not move, what struck him even more peculiar was how brightly everyone in these photos smiled back at him.

Never in Draco’s life had he had a family portrait photo where either his parents or he smiled. Nor did he ever have photos taken with his parents wrapping their arms around him in a happy embrace. Or jumping with happiness at the beach. This was the first time that he could remember a family publicly showing how happy they were together.

“Ready Malfoy.” Whipping around, Draco found Granger fully dressed and her hair completely dry. She had a much smaller suitcase next to her, except wheels were attached to it at the bottom. He held out his arm.

“Let’s get moving then.”

Linking arms with him, Hermione Apparated them out of her home.

**18 November 08:05am**

The bright light and noise almost overwhelmed Draco as Hermione guided them through the airport. All the Muggles he saw seemed to be in a rush and he thanked his Quidditch reflexes for being able to dodge a few people pushing their trolleys almost into him. They finally arrived in a line that Granger called ‘check-in’. It was a long switchback of people all waiting to get to the desks in front.

“Why aren’t we going to that empty counters over there?” He asked impatiently.

“Those counters are for first class passengers.” Granger had already pulled out their documents for travel, as she explained the differences of first class and economy.

“Then let’s go.” It made perfect sense to go if that meant skipping this line.

“Malfoy,we didn’t buy first class tickets. They were quite expensive.”

They shuffled along after the family who eventually managed to convince their hyperactive child to stop kicking the bollard to move down. If that child was going to be sitting anywhere near Draco, he might hex the little menace.

“It’s my money Granger. I want to spend good money for comfort.” Ducking under the line tape, he strode over to the vacant counter with the rolled out red carpet. Leaving Granger to follow.

The woman at the counter smiled at him in greeting.

“Good afternoon Sir. Are you travelling first class with us today?”

“Yes, I would like to get two first class tickets to Sydney.” He commanded.

The clerk looked at him with a restrained look.

“Do you already have tickets for your flight Sir?”

“Yes, but I want to pay more for first class.” Why didn’t she seem to understand Draco’s request?

“Sorry, I have the tickets for economy. We would like to pay for first class upgrade.”

Granger stepped beside him and slapped their documents on the counter.

“Oh I see. Can I see your passports and itinerary, please.” The woman took the documents and within a few minutes they were escorted (without their suitcases) to the plane. Draco barely paid attention to the additional price of the upgrade, but he thought Granger looked rather appalled as she handed over a black card to pay for it. He didn't understand because it was his money that was paying for everything, as agreed. If he had to endure the know-it-all’s presence, he may as well do it in as much comfort as possible.

**18 November 09:45am**

“Is this all the space we get?”

Hermione barely contained her eye roll as she watched Malfoy observe his palatial seat at the front of the plane. Their allocated seats were facing each other side by side.

“These are the very best seats Malfoy. Wait until you get a peek at what economy would have been like.” Awkwardly she accepted a glass of champagne from the cabin crew who passed by, gulping it down enthusiastically. If she had to spend a whole journey to Australia with Malfoy, she needed alcohol.

Eventually Malfoy sat in his seat and Hermione watched him stare at the safety video with great interest whilst muttering words like ‘barbaric’ and ‘unhelpful from actual death’. The engines roared into power and in no time they were up in the air.

Hermione couldn’t help but notice how his knuckles were slightly white from gripping his armrest, which made her feel ever slightly better about bringing him along on his first ever Muggle flight.

Her heart pounded with nerves, not from flying itself, but the thought of seeing her parents again. She didn’t know how she would feel when she lay eyes on them. It had never occurred to her that she would ever be able to bring their memories of her –  _ them _ as a family, back.

“Granger, what do we do here for entertainment?” Malfoy’s question snapped her out of her darkening thoughts.

“You can wear those headphones and watch a film. They’re like moving pictures that we’re used to seeing but they can also talk.”

Showing Malfoy how to set up his headphones and how to select a film, she watched as he picked one. Typical boy, he chose a movie about racing cars. She left him to his own devices while she drew up the screen between them and pulled out a book for some light reading.

It was much later when Hermione heard a sniffle. Instincts told her to cure that person with some pepper-up potion and shun germs. Someone sniffed again and gave a long sigh and she realized it was coming from the other side of the screen. Standing up slowly so that her head could peer over the seats and screens, she saw Malfoy was staring at his small screen intently with watery eyes.

It took the witch by surprise to see her childhood tormentor crying, he looked vulnerable. Perhaps it was possible for a man with a cold heart to have empathy. Her hair fell out of her loose bun and cascaded down the screen, which startled Draco with her presence.

“What are you doing Granger?” He said, whilst hastily rubbing tears away and shoving the headphones off of him.

“I just wanted to ask if you wanted any water.” Ever quick with an excuse.

“If I wanted anything, I would ask one of the hostesses myself.” Clearing his throat, he was busy arranging the blankets he had around him.

“Oh yes. I’m not used to being in first class where they get things for us. But what’s the movie about?” Not wishing to embarrass the wizard any further, she still thought it would be nice to have some conversation.

“Nothing too exciting. Just cars, hot women, and family. I’m very tired Granger, could you let me try to get some sleep?” Malfoy had been avoiding his gaze from her since he noticed her staring. Hermione was dismissed.

“Sure. Good night Malfoy.” Sitting back down in her seat, she picked up her book again.

“Granger.” His voice asked softly from the other side.

“Yes, Malfoy?”

“Do you know how to make this seat into a bed?” He asked hesitantly.

“I’ll come over Malfoy.”

Hermione got out of her seat a little too enthusiastically. The quicker Malfoy went to sleep, the sooner she didn’t have to interact with him.

**20 November 09:26pm**

  
  


Over thirty hours after Draco had first set foot in an airport, he was already fed up with them. He was fed up with air-o-plains, the tasteless cardboard food, the barbaric security checks. No more. He would rather watch the resurrection of Voldemort. Almost.

Taking in a deep breath of fresh, humid air, he was relieved to be outside of Sydney airport. All he needed to do was convince Granger to pay a visit to the Magical Parliament of Australia and order their series of portkeys home. If she disagreed, he will leave without her.

Thinking of Cantankerus Nott’s book of the Sacred Twenty Eight, he couldn’t for the life of him think which family Granger’s supposed to be related to. Before the flight landed, he questioned her about her parents and grandparents. It seemed like any questions he could ask to get to know them better, he did. In return, Granger gave him what he wanted to know and more by the cauldron-load. He got the impression that the Grangers were very close and her grandmother was an eccentric. 

They continued discussing the minute details of her family in the taxi all the way to the hotel.

“Did you ever meet your paternal grandparents?”

“Not at all. My grandmother died in childbirth to my father and my grandfather supposedly abandoned his son from birth.” 

Draco couldn’t help but notice the bitterness the witch spoke with at the mention of her grandfather. 

“But Nana says she knew my grandmother when they were younger. She used to tell me all these stories about being young, working for the government during the Second World War and how they used to go dancing with all these handsome men.”

Hermione took the lead with paying the taxi driver and checking in with the hotel reception. Draco assisted with carrying the suitcases into the strangely stark lobby of the hotel. 

Once they got the keys from the cheery receptionist (Australians seem overly cheerful, most disconcerting for a Brit like him); they went into the room assigned to them. Draco was most put out by the drab room of orange and beige where two single beds were positioned side by side.

“You may have been comfortable sharing beds and romping with both Potty and Weasel but that’s not going to happen here,” Draco said with displeasure.

“If you insinuate one more time that my relationship with my  _ best friends _ was anything but platonic. I will cut you into tiny pieces.” 

Taking her bag, Hermione stormed into the bathroom to wash and change. How dare he insinuate such disgusting things! She was tired and cranky. His words were the very last straw to a very long journey.

She was ready to feel clean and sleep well after taking a dose of sleeping draught.

  
  
  



	2. Meet the Grangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco have agreed to work together in search of answers to Hermione's pureblood heritage.

**21 November 10:50am**

Dressed in appropriate light clothing for an Australian summer, the unlikely pair took a taxi to an address Hermione provided. They got out in front of a clinic and sat at a cafe nearby in a window table with a good view of the dentistry. Barely a few words had been exchanged between them since last night as Hermione used breakfast as an opportunity to read. Draco was happy to oblige to the silence. 

Even in the cafe, they had their own books out to read while occasionally glancing up to check on the small dentistry. Granger seemed to be reading her notes and Draco had charmed a copy of ‘DNA for Dummies’ to look like an old book. 

There was no way he wanted Granger to know he’s learning about Muggle practices. But when the bookworm mentioned that Muggles had created a method of determining paternity tests, he was rather shocked and baffled. All the words like DNA,  _ chromo-sun _ or whatever made more sense than a Hippogriff writing poetry. It had been an interesting read so far and it explained why Granger had came up with the plan that she did.

He glanced out of the window, where cars rolled past under the beating sun. Then a tall man holding the hand of a curly haired woman walked out of the dentistry. They looked as they had done in the pictures in Granger’s home. The Grangers were leaving for lunch.

His chair scraped back as he pointed the parents out.

“That’s them right. You can introduce me to them.” Draco was putting away his book when Hermione grabbed his arm.

“We can’t just randomly walk up to them!” She was noticeably panicked.

“Why not? Surely they’ll be happy to see their daughter.”

“We can’t. They don’t know me.” Hermione gaze fell and her lips dropped in sadness.

“Oh.” Suddenly Draco felt uncomfortable at the implications of it all, the sacrifice she must have made for a war that he didn’t want to have any part of.

“Did you obliviate them?” He asked carefully. Hermione nodded in response.

“I’m sorry you had to make that choice.”

“It’s fine. I’m just glad they’re safe.” It was an awkward depressing silence between them and if Draco had known her better, he could have patted her on the shoulder. 

“What shall we do then?” Draco asked. Chocolate caramel eyes met his pewter ones with determination.

“Let’s follow them and maybe we can manage to get some hair off them.”

Out of a surge of sympathy, Draco offered his arm but indecisiveness came immediately. This was new, risky and out of character for him. But after a moment of staring at his proffered arm, she rested hers in it and they walked out of the cafe.

They walked silently in the direction the Grangers went and soon had them in sight. Staying back considerably, they watched as Hermione’s parents went into a busy restaurant, being seated in the outdoor seating area. 

Walking up to the hostess stand, they requested an outdoor table. Eventually they were seated two tables away from the Grangers, who were talking to the waiter with a warm familiarity. Father Granger laughed at something that mother Granger said and Draco could see the pained look on Hermione’s face as she stared at them longingly.

“Have you seen them since the war?” He asked.

“First time in two years.” She yanked a napkin from the dispenser and dabbed her eyes. 

The waiter handed them menus and the possibility of lunch gave some distraction to the task at hand. Although Draco doubted his companion was hungry, noticing she barely looked at the menu. Her eyes were fixated on her parents, who were so close yet so unattainable. Draco couldn’t allow her to breakdown in the restaurant. Not just because it was embarrassing but it would scupper the reason why they were here in the first place. 

Waving his hand across her line of sight, he had her attention.

“I know it’s hard for you. But you need to put those thoughts aside, and focus on our mission.” His hand reached across and held her chin. Steadying her to concentrate on him. 

“You need to take a deep breath in and on the exhale, let go of your feelings.” 

With a large intake of breath, Draco watched as she gently blew out, it tickled across his hand. 

“Keep doing that and imagine all your feelings are shaped into easy to hold objects. Hold those objects carefully.” 

Her eyes fell shut as he observed her lips purse into a slow exhale. 

“Imagine putting those objects into a box. They’re still there but no longer present.” 

Hermione’s body relaxed into her chair and slowly Draco let go of her face. His hand tingled where it grazed against her soft chin and his stomach knotted as she almost pulled her lips into a half smile.

“Alrigh’, can I get you lovebirds something to eat?” A chirpy waiter asked and Hermione’s eyes snapped open. Their bubble of calm popped, evaporated out of existence.

“Could I have a BLT and some lemonade please?” Granger responded quickly.

Draco in his panic over Granger’s state, hadn’t glanced at the menu. 

“Same again please.” The waiter relieved them of their menus and left the pair alone in an awkward silence.

“Thanks for pulling me out of a downward spiral.” Granger confessed silently. She gazed longingly at her parents’ table. Draco noticed how relaxed they were with each others’ company, he’s not sure if his parents were anything but formal with each other in public. Never did he doubt they loved each other, but it was visible how strong the Grangers’ relationship was. 

“How do we get the hair off them for this paternity test?” Draco asked.

“I thought one of us could go up to them and distract them, while the other takes a sample.” Hermione proposed.

“We have wands, we can just summon their hair.” It seemed like stating the obvious. “Also you’re a terrible actress.” He smirked.

“That’s not fair. Also they might notice if their hair was yanked off their heads. Not only that, but papa’s hair is starting to thin out.” 

Granger pouted in thought, and Draco watched the cogs in her brain move. Finally his companion spoke.

“I’m going to distract them and when they look surprised, I want you to summon a few strands of hair.”

She stood up and Draco watched the witch begin to walk past the table. With a swish of her wrist, a large glass fell across the table and spilled all over her parents. 

“I’m so sorry about that!” She protested as she frantically pulled napkins from neighbouring tables and dabbed it on the table. 

Draco knew it was his moment. Frank Granger had sprang out of his chair and with seeker reflexes caught the strands of hair that were plucked from Frank’s scalp. 

Stuffing them into a vial, he waited for his second opportunity with Mrs Granger. Watching as Hermione walked away to go to the counter and speak to the waiter, Draco wondered how long he has to wait. When Hermione began to come towards him. But she stopped to apologise again to her parents, who smiled and seemed relaxed about the whole debacle. His parents wouldn’t have done that. They would have berated and punished anyone who would cause such an accident over their table.

Realising he still needed Elizabeth Granger’s hair, he summoned it quickly just as her head turned. She did a double take and checked the back of her chair, before returning to face her husband. 

Hermione sat back down just as he corked the vial with the second lot of hair. 

“Ready?” 

Draco looked at her in puzzlement. “You want to leave now when we just ordered food.”

“I prefer if we ate somewhere else.” She replied rather insistently, looking visibly shaken.

Pulling out some Muggle money from his pocket, he put them on the table as he rose.

“Let’s go then Granger.” 

  
  


**22 November 12:30pm**

Hermione tried keeping her nerve as she focused on convincing the lab technician to process the hair samples, whilst also trying to make sure Malfoy didn’t touch anything in the laboratory.

With a carefully slipped in suggestive potion of the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes kind, the technician quite happily helped Hermione with her request. 

“What is this box?” Malfoy asked as he tapped a white box emitting a whirring sound. 

“That’s an ABI PRISM 7500 Sequence Detection System, for ensuring the extraction of DNA is human rather than from another source such as bacteria. This works through quantitation of-”

“I’m sorry to be rude, but we’re in a rush. How long will this process take?” Hermione interrupted at the overly enthusiast descent into Muggle science. But she needed answers to find out more. 

“Sorry ‘bout that. Will take forty eight hours. Come back when it’s ready.” The technician explained and Hermione thanked him before dragging Malfoy out of the laboratory. That meant only two more days in Sydney with Draco Malfoy. Which shouldn’t be too hard. Really easy.

**22 November 15:00**

“I’m going to read by the pool.” 

Draco looked up from his book as Granger emerged from the bathroom in a very short kaftan and a towel on her arms. Blinking twice to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating that the prim Gryffindor was wearing swimwear.

“Be my guest.” He turned back to his book as if he was startled by the expanse of her exposed skin.

“You’re welcome to join me.” She asked timidly.

Smirking in response, he imagined what people back home would say if they saw the two of them hanging around a pool together.

“Thanks but I’m content here.” Draco heard her leave him alone in the dim hotel room.

**22 November 15:40**

“Turning the pool into a library?”

Hermione gazed up from her book of Nobility and took a deep breath. She didn’t expect to see Draco clad only in a pair of swim shorts, revealing a lean set of abs. 

“Not at all.” Silently thanking her lucky stars for sunglasses to hide her surprise. She was only surprised by the unfamiliarity of seeing her former tormentor almost nude, Not that she thought he looked rather attractive. Definitely. The blond rapped his knuckles on her books.

“Want to make room for my drink?”

Staring at the side table covered in her books. She hastily stacked them up into a pile to make room for the ice cold drink he had. 

“Try not to interrupt my research time.” She turned back to the Pureblood-extolling book and tried to ignore Malfoy taking a dive into the pool.

**23 November 10:30**

“Only a bookworm like you would prefer to read beside a pool than take a swim in it.”

Hermione glanced up, sunglasses falling to the tip of her nose as she glared at Malfoy. There’s no way she noticed how his wet blond hair fell across his face and those biceps flexed as he pulled himself out of the water.

“With your pale complexion, you’re going to burn if you stay too long in the water.” She rebuffed.

“Come on Granger. We’re working on your ancestry and waiting for the Muggle to finish his job. You can put the books down for a few seconds.”

With a deep sigh, she threw her book and kaftan onto her lounger. Hermione smirked back at Malfoy who looked a bit stunned as she jumped into the pool. 

**23 November 18:50**

“You look less like a ferret and more like a lobster.” Hermione could barely contain her giggles as the bathroom door opened to reveal Malfoy looking displeased and very pink in his bath towel.

“Not another word about this Granger.” The pink wizard growled back threateningly but it was hard for Hermione to take him seriously.

“I did warn you.” With a flick of her wand, a stream of cold icy air swirled around her burnt roommate who sighed with relief.

“Once we get the results tomorrow, we are leaving.” Malfoy said as he carefully pulled a shirt on. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Oh I don’t know. Lobster?” She suggested with a smug smile.

**24 November 17:30**

They stared at the brown envelope between them on the table. Draco couldn’t resist it anymore.

“If you’re not going to open that. I’ll do it for you.” His hand reached for the envelope and thanks to his quick Quidditch reflexes, he managed to get it before Granger pulled it away from his reach.

“Please don’t. I want to open it.” Granger begged him with her chocolate eyes.

“You can if you do it now.” Holding the envelop far away from her reach.

“Fine. If you insist, I will.”

Offering her the envelope, Draco snatched it back just as Granger went to grab it. 

“Promise you will.” He smirked.

Through gritted teeth, Hermione glared at him. “Fine. I will.”

Slowly he brought the envelope to her and Draco watched the witch frantically rip open the envelope. Her eyes darted back and forth across the page, while he waited with bated breath. Then he saw her lips quiver and Granger’s face crumbled into heaving sobs.

“Granger?”   
  
The witch’s sobs only gotten louder and Draco felt incredibly uncomfortable. How was he supposed to calm her down when the news must have been this terrible? Pulling out his handkerchief from his pocket, she took it heartily.

“It’s alright if they aren’t your parents. They still loved you.” He said in his way of trying to reassure her.

“That’s not it. They’re definitely my parents.” She sniffled.

“Oh.” 

Now what? He’s truly stumped on what to do.

“I’m just so relieved.” The witch kept wiping her red eyes and Draco almost wanted to mention that she should wash her face as it was all blotchy from crying. But that didn’t seem very sensitive to her predicament. Also he was still red from his sunburn, so it would have been a case of the pot calling the kettle black.

“Since finding out about my bloodline status, it has made me doubt what I had with my parents. As much as I needed to know, I was also terrified of what might have been the truth.” She confessed.

They sat in silence as they stared at the document Hermione placed on the table with the definitive results.

“Does this conclude our stay in Australia?” He finally asked. 

“I suppose so.” 

“What’s next?” But Hermione only shrugged in response to his question. 

“I’ll think about it on our journey back home. I’ll keep you updated on it.”

“Sure. In that case, I’m going to start packing.” Draco got up and left the brunette to her own thoughts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my beta Tridogmom who's the greatest.


	3. In Search For Clues

**27 November 11:00**

Dusty and focused, Hermione barely heard the doorbell ring when the faint chime buzzed a few times. 

Hurrying down the attic ladder and running towards the front door. She opened the door to an annoyed Draco Malfoy.

“About time Granger.” 

The blond walked passed her and headed for her kitchen, as if he owned her place.

“Hello to you too Malfoy.”

Once her door was closed, she followed him into the kitchen to start the kettle. 

“I’m in the attic sorting through some of the old stuff my parents and Nana left behind. You could help me find anything that looks odd.” 

An old peach teapot, sugar bowl and milk jug assembled themselves on a tray.

“Well bring it down here. I’m not crawling around in your dusty old attic.” Draco ordered and with a heavy sigh Hermione summoned the boxes into the living room.

Once they moved into the living room with their tea, they stared at the piles of boxes with the faded labels. 

“The plan is to go through everything and see if there’s any clues that might lead to magic or ancestors.”

From the corner of her eye, she watched as Draco pulled off his robes and rolled up his sleeves, revealing the Dark Mark permanently etched across his forearm. 

Averting her gaze, she too took off her dusty sweater and began to work. If Malfoy felt comfortable with bearing his marks of war in her home, she wasn’t going to be hiding her scars either.

**27 November 14:17**

The pair had been going through those boxes for a while and Draco wasn’t sure what could be found amongst the box filled with notes on teeth. 

Fed up with the box,he moved on to the next, a much older and more faded one. To be honest, Draco didn’t expect research into one’s bloodline to be so… dusty. It had only dawned on him that not every family keeps a family tree tapestry or hold a portrait gallery of their ancestors. 

However the more he read and looked into Frank and Elizabeth Granger, the more he began to like them. In one box, he found pictures and memorabilia of Frank playing a Muggle game called rugby. Hermione described it briefly and he had to tell her she’s the worst person to explain sports. But a part of him wondered if Frank and him ever met, they might have had a good conversation about the brutalities of Quidditch and Rugby.

The current box he was going through held knickknacks. The things seemed older like it belonged to a previous generation. Opening a faded silver jewellery box, he found a broken piece of ornate wood and a small gold locket.

Holding up the piece of wood, Draco examined it carefully. It was real wood and carved into a twisted piece. The broken end revealed to be hollow inside by a thread’s width. Like it part of something bigger, such as a chess piece or perhaps a wand.

“I think I found a clue.” He held it up to Granger. Who looked at it with puzzlement. 

“If that is a piece of a wand, like I think it is. The question is who does it belong to?” She asked.

Draco pulled out the locket and opened it to show the faded portraits of a man and woman.

“Either one of them, or someone related to them.” Her brows furrowed in thought at his answer.

“Let’s put that aside and see what other clues are here.”

Hermione pulled back an errant curl and continued to rifle through her box. Draco put the jewelry box and it’s clues on the coffee table before continuing his wide search. His heart leapt in excitement of a possible lead to solving the mystery of Grangers bloodline. It was a much needed morale booster.

**27 November 18:28**

Hermione could murder an entire pizza right now as her stomach complained in protest. They had been going through dusty boxes all day and unlike their time in Australia, Malfoy barely complained since he arrived in her house.

“I’m going to get us some food. Do you prefer pizza or Chinese?” She asked to a confused Malfoy.

“How about neither and serve some proper food?” He retorted with a disgusted look.

“Fine. I’ll see what I have in the kitchen.” Regretting her previous thought on a more pleasant Draco Malfoy, she went to the kitchen in search of some food.

**27 November 19:20**

Draco had practically inhaled the soup and fresh bread that Granger made. It may have been simple but delicious.

“Granger if you can clean yourself up as well as you can cook, you can date any man you want.” 

“Yes, because the patriarchy needs more women to be suppressed.” She glared in response.

“I wanted to compliment your resourcefulness. How did you make the soup?” Taking another dip of bread into his bowl.

“I opened a can, poured the soup into a pot and heated it up.” Draco almost choked mid-sip.

“You mean, you didn’t make it from scratch?” 

“You didn’t want me to order food. So from the kitchen cupboard it is.” Hermione drained her bowl and stood up.“You can wash the dishes when you’re done. I’m going to continue with the boxes.”

**27 November 20:55**

“Granger, pass me that key.” Hermione looked at the key in her hand, which she dug out of the musky make up box of her Nana’s.

Malfoy took the key from her and inspected it closely leaving no groove or ridge unexamined. 

“This is a very old type of Gringotts key.”

The revelation surprised Hermione. 

“It belonged to my maternal grandmother. I just thought she kept a disused old key.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s a witch from an old family. This key only belongs to an older vault. One day I will inherit a similar one.” 

It dawned on Hermione that perhaps now more than ever, she had more in common with her former tormentor than she knew. Having spent so much time with Draco, she learnt that she barely know him at all. 

“What was it like? Knowing you will one day inherit the Malfoy legacy.” 

His pewter eyes bore into hers, revealing his inner truth. Finally Draco answered in a soft whisper.

“It’s a heavy burden to carry.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tridogmom - you're the greatest. Thank you for being my beta. I'd be lost without you.


	4. Inspecting the Roots

**28 November 09:30**

Hermione was by the door when Draco rang the doorbell punctually. Already the kettle was boiling and tea was being laid out for another day of research.

“Good morning. I have something interesting to show you.” She revealed as they went to the living room. The once cosy and orderly place resembled a hoarder’s home. Boxes were stacked into towers and their contents strewn across the coffee table. 

She woke up early this morning to get a head start when she came across a clue. Now she could barely wait to share it with Draco. On the sofa, all the evidence was carefully arranged. The locket, a broken piece of a wand, the Gringotts key, and some faded documents.

“I found my father’s birth certificate and I wondered if anything stuck out to you.” She handed over the document and carefully Draco opened it. Nervously biting her lip, she watched his silver eyes scan the paper with care for detail.

“Fawley. That’s a Sacred Twenty-Eight family name that has died out.” 

Her heart leapt. That could be a real lead in their research, but the name isn’t exactly uncommon. How many Fawleys were there in the world? There must have been hundreds, if not thousands. Perhaps they weren’t closer to the answers than they were. Her mind began to discourage her with facts and dwindling possibilities.

“We can check with the Ministry, but I doubt we will get any more answers.” She dismissed. Before going to the kitchen to make tea.

  
  


**28 November 12:45**

Entering the reception area of B.A.T.S. again, Draco was dismayed to see the obtuse clerk again at the desk.

“What can I do for you?” The clerk asked dully, almost as if Dementors had sucked out all the zest for life from him.

“Yes, we are here to see the birth and death records of the Fawley family, per my right as a descendant.” Granger commanded, Draco smirked at the way she held her chin high. When it wasn’t him on the receiving end of Granger’s bossiness, dare he say he enjoyed it.

But the unflappable clerk stared blankly back at her.

“Do you have the necessary proof of identity?” 

Granger pulled out one document after another from the folder she clutched and placed everything on the counter.

“Those are my father’s birth certificate to prove he was born as Frank Fawley, my birth certificate, my paternity test results to prove Frank Fawley is my father and my Ministry of Magic identification card.”

The man pulled on his glasses and slowly inspected every document with disdain. It was clear he didn’t want to help them. Draco had to grit his teeth to prevent any sudden outburst of annoyance. Finally the clerk sniffed before turning to them.

“I’m afraid there’s an inconsistency in your father’s name and the account you requested access to. For all I know, this birth certificate are fraudulent.”

Jumping in to save Granger from a burst of outrage, Draco leant in towards the clerk.

“I understand that there’s a blood ward that locks all registers. Correct?”

“Indeed.” The clerk replied smugly.

“Well since Ms Granger is here and can have access to her personal files, why don’t you fetch them for her?”

“Correct but doesn’t grant her the access she requested.”

“Yes but wouldn’t her personal file provide the necessary verification she needs to see the Fawley records? Since the personal files would contain fraudulent-proof evidence of which family tree she’s a descendant from?”

A sour expression crossed the bureaucrat’s face. 

“Wait here.” And off the displeased man went while Draco smirked at Granger.

“No need to thank me just yet.”

Savouring the moment he bested Hermione at getting something done, they waited in the grim office.

**28 November 15:00**

“What do you want to drink? My treat.” 

Hermione watched Draco place a few sickles on the bar counter at the Leaky Cauldron. Her mind still working over the facts and the new questions that cropped up.

“Butterbeer is fine.” 

“You need something stronger than that. Two glasses of Elven wine please.” 

Sitting down at a table in the far corner, Hermione opened her folder of notes. It seemed like Draco was right about her belonging to the Fawley family line. But apart from the birth certificate and her right to access the documents. There were no records of her father in the registry. It was as if he was never involved in the magical world. 

A glass of wine was placed before her and Draco raised his glass to hers.

“We should celebrate. This is a big step forward.” 

Putting on a brave smile, she toasted him. 

“Why do I get the feeling that there’s a reason why my father’s not in the Ministry’s records? Perhaps he was outcast or maybe a Squib.”

Her companion sighed at her suggestion. 

“I have the same thought too. If the Ministry doesn’t have any record of him. We should pursue the next lead.”

“The Gringotts key?”

Draco took a hearty pull from his glass. “It’s the next step. Perhaps there’s some family heirlooms that will give us some more clues.” 

Pulling out a pocket watch from his robes, he checked the time. “If we finish our drinks, we can get there before closing.” 

Hermione’s heart pounded with nerves. It had been a long time since she set foot in there; not since the war. To this day, she has only ever interacted with the bank at an arm's length through owl post or asking Bill Weasley to assist. But curiosity was getting the better of her and Draco seemed encouraging.

“Sure. We can.” She smiled at the blond, as if there was nothing to fear at all.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Tridogmom for being a wonderful beta and TheNoobLife for a beautiful aesthetic for this story.


	5. Unearth the Truth

**28 November 15:20**

“I have to tell you that I’m nervous and the goblins may not let me in.” Hermione confessed on their walk through Diagon Alley.

“Goblins are always grouchy. It’s not like it’s your first time at Gringotts.” Draco tried to reassure her.

“No. It’s just that last time I went there, I broke into your aunt’s vault and escaped on a dragon.” To that, Draco stopped abruptly and she almost walked into him.

“That was you on the dragon?” He looked at her in surprise and searched her face for lies or a joke.

“Yes. The poor dragon was blinded and chained up in a squalid cave. I’m glad we freed it.” 

Draco let out a belly laugh that caught Hermione unaware.

“Typical Granger. You break into one of the most difficult places in the world and escape on a dragon. Then the only thing you recount is about the beast’s welfare.” 

It brought a slight grin to her face, at least he saw the light side of the whole ordeal.

And so they walked into the marble foyer of the bank. Hermione tried to follow Draco’s lead and stared ahead of her. Even though she felt eyes staring at them. 

Heading for an empty counter, the goblin behind it glowered at her.

“May I help you?” It asked without any pleasantries. 

“I would like to access my vault.” Hermione stated with her chin up, as if she wasn’t nervous at all.

“How dare you walk in here. We should be calling the authorities to send you to Azkaban.” The goblin spat out and Hermione almost wanted to walk out of the building.

“This is ridiculous!” Draco shouted which astounded both the goblins and Hermione.

“You’re talking to two descendants of the oldest Wizarding families. The Ministry would hear about how  _ you _ mistreated us. Hermione, give him your key.” The blond ordered. Following his lead, she pulled out the antique key from her beaded bag. As it clanked against the counter, the goblin raised his eyebrow at it.

Another goblin came up to the counter and whispered into its ear, who nodded along.

“We shall take the key for inspection first. Wait here.” 

It’s small pointed hand took the key and disappeared into a back room. Once the goblin had taken the key out of sight, Hermione turned to Draco.

“You know I prefer it if next time you didn’t act like a privileged arsehole.” She said with a tone of annoyance, which only made her companion raise an eyebrow.

“You can thank me later when they let us in the vault.”

They waited for a couple of minutes when the goblin finally returned, with a look of displeasure.

“We will escort you to your vault now.” It gestured to two goblins who appeared before them, holding out their hands.

“Your wands please.”

The pair reluctantly handed the goblins their wands. Clearly Gringotts had increased their security just for them, Hermione thought.

Escorted into the bank and onto one of the rickety carts. Draco, Hermione and the two goblins hurtled deep into the labyrinth of vaults.

Finally, the cart came to a stop at an unnumbered vault. The door was narrow and no taller than Hermione’s shoulders, with ornately iron-wrought bars across it. One of the goblins put her key into the door.

“We require your hand to open this door, Madam.” He pointed at an indentation on the door. “Only a true blood relative can open this vault.” It said with a twisted grin.

Hermione pressed her palm against the door, a sharp prick stabbed her flesh. Hissing from the shock of the pain, the iron bars twisted and shifted. The narrow door swung open. 

The goblins looked disappointed as Hermione and Draco crouched down and went inside.

The vault was bare and barely fitted the two of them. A stone pensieve stood to one wall and opposite it was a tall glass cabinet, filled to the brim with glass vials of wispy memories.

Draco examined the pensieve as Hermione scanned the faded labels on the vials.

“The name Granger has been engraved into this pensieve.” Draco called putting to her. Turning around, Hermione stared at the rim of the bowl, where they could barely make out her name etched on it.

“Are you sure you’re not related to the Dagworth-Grangers?” He asked.

“I’m not sure anymore.” Hermione replied.

She was a Fawley and Granger, Hermione concluded. But there remained so many other questions. Why aren’t her parents called Fawley? Why did they choose the name Granger instead? It didn’t make sense.

Staring back at the vials of memories, she figured they were where the answers might lie.

“Let’s take a look into some of these memories. Ever been in a pensieve before?” She asked Draco as she opened the cupboard. The memories glowed faintly at her.

“There’s one in the Manor.” 

Hermione snorted one response. Of course he owned one.

A vial with a yellow glow caught her eye and she took the bottle from the shelf. ‘Dinner time’ it simply said. It seemed innocuous enough, so she tipped it’s contents into the pensieve. Draco’s hand rested on her shoulder and they both fell into the swirls of yellow mist.

  
  


They landed in a dining room, glass front cabinets lining the walls filled with china and crystal. The room was orderly, except for the large walnut dining table that stretched from one side to another. It’s surface laden with large volumes of textbooks and reams of paper. A tall man was hunched over the books, scribbling onto notecards with a pencil. 

Although the man was younger, Draco recognised him to be Frank Granger with more hair.

On instinct, Hermione went over to her father and leant over the table, examining his books and notes.

“He’s studying dentistry.” She said with puzzlement. 

“Why would someone put memories of your father studying for a very Muggle profession in a Gringotts vault?” Draco was very confused.

In the far corner, he noticed the dining room door was partially open. A feminine hand poked through, clutching a wand. It flicked silently and he watched the mess of notes and books fly up into the air before stacking themselves into orderly piles.

Frank pulled away in surprise before tutting in reluctance. The door opened and a younger Elizabeth walked into the room. Her wand in her hand, a large casserole dish floated in behind her. Draco heard Hermione’s sharp intake of breath as she watched her mom weld her wand. 

“It’s time for dinner love. You’ve studied hard enough for today.”

With a spin of her wand, the table set itself up for two and candles were lit. Before she could sit on an empty chair Frank pulled her down onto his lap.

“You’re going to be the death of me one day for scaring me like that.”

The couple shared a passionate kiss and Draco looked away in embarrassment.

“I hope you won’t be scared to death, you’ve promised to share a long life with me.”

It was then, Draco noticed a small engagement ring on her hand as the Grangers kissed again in a loving embrace. His heart panged with a yearning he never knew was there. The Grangers had a lot of love and affection for each other. The sort of love he once hoped he could have.

The young couple pulled apart. Frank’s thumb tenderly rubbed his wife’s cheek.

“I’m the luckiest Squib in the world, to have a witch like you love me this much.”

She swatted him on the shoulder with a sweet affection.

“How many times must I say it. I love your heart, which is worth more than the love of a million wizards.”

“It can’t just be my heart you love.” Frank replied as he stood up,carrying his wife with him. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he whisked her out of the room.

“Darling, what about dinner?” Elizabeth worried.

“Dinner can wait. That’s what magic is for.”

Elizabeth Granger's laugh echoed as her daughter and Draco were pulled out of the pensieve.

  
  
  
  


Hermione stared blankly at the cloudy pool in the pensieve, stunned. Her parents knew about magic. Even practiced it! Why didn’t they ever mention it? 

“Do you want to continue?” Draco asked her. 

Did she? The memory brought up so many questions that were left unanswered. If there was anything Hermione needed more, it was to answers to questions.

“Let’s look at a few more.” Turning around to face the cabinet of memories. She scanned all the labels on the bottles. Hogwarts: first day. O.W.L’s, Mother’s Day. Picking up the vial with that last label. Hermione poured it into the pensieve and they were pulled into the memory.

  
  
  


Hermione recognised where she was at once. It was home. The familiar living room with its bay windows, the fireplace. Only some of the furniture was different, older. 

“Lizzie dear. Let me take that when you’re in your current condition.” 

Through the archway connecting the living room with the dining room bustled her grandmother. Only Nana looked younger, her hair not yet grey and dressed in witches robes. She carried a tray of tea into the living room and placed them on the coffee table before taking out her wand to spruce up the cushions. 

Hermione smiled fondly at her Nana. It had been years since her death and Hermione missed this woman so much.

“Mummy. You need to stop fussing me around. I’m pregnant, not immobile.” 

Hermione gasped as her mother came into the room. A large round bump around her belly. 

Nana and mum sat down on the sofa, busying themselves with making tea and serving biscuits. Shortbreads were served, just like they always were during Hermione’s childhood. 

“Lizzie dear. I’m here to not only check up on you.” Nana said gently, in a tone that Hermione knew all too well. The tone that she was going to bequeath them with some sage knowledge.

“Don’t start again. I’ve already told you. Frank and I aren’t going to stop doing whatever we can to stop -”

“You’re not listening to me, love.” Nana butted in, more panicked.

“They have already taken the Fawleys. If they would dare torture and murder them, they are most certainly coming after their Squib son!”

“I can’t believe you are starting to think like them. Frank is  _ my _ husband, through better or worse.” Elizabeth fires back in a rage.

“It’s true though. You know I think of Frank as my own beloved son. I worry about his safety and the future of your family.” Nana pleaded whilst clutching her daughter’s hand. 

Hermione saw the strain of worry across the older woman’s face. 

“Think of the child inside you!” 

Elizabeth looked almost outraged. “I am mummy. We’re doing this for a better world for her.” 

Nana gasped, finally she asked. “It’s a girl?” 

Hermione stared as her grandmother’s hand reached out to rest on her mother’s bump. To rest on a growing  _ her _ .

“We found out last week.”

Tears started to cloud Hermione’s vision as the two women hugged.

“I have been thinking about Hermione, for a name.”

“Oh the god Hermes, bringing good from one world to another. How lovely.” Nana sniffed as she lovingly rubbed the belly growing her future granddaughter. They cried and Hermione’s heart wrenched at the sight of the two women who loved her most. How much she yearned to embrace them both again.

The room swirled and uncontrollably the memory faded away leaving the two onlookers of this intimate scene with an intense feeling of sadness.

  
  
  


Draco looked at his companion warily once they were pulled out of her ancestor’s memory. They have gotten some of the answers they wanted to find since the beginning of the month. But the ominous feeling of what the truth had in store for them, had left him terrified. 

Turning around to gaze at the goblins who stood impatiently by the safe door. It was time for them to go.

“Come on Granger. Let’s get a drink.” He encouraged.

The witch shook her head and pulled another vial from the cupboard, the one in the far corner of the bottom shelf.

“You can go, I need just one more.”

Draco sighed, he didn’t feel brave like her to watch one more gut wrenching memory. But he couldn’t quite abandon her either. Reluctantly, they fell into the third memory.

  
  
  
  


The sniffles of crying filled Draco’s ears before his sight adjusted to the darkness. He knew he was back in the Grangers living room again. 

Hermione’s parents were lying on the sofa, as if they were asleep. But the discord of her grandmother standing over them, her wand against her daughter’s forehead pulling long silver strands of memories to decanter into memory vials. 

Tears fell from the older woman’s face as she methodically worked. Draco warily watched Hermione kneel down by the coffee table and stare at the vials on the table. A quill labelled them as each one was filled. He recognised how each bottle being filled in this memory, were now sitting in the cabinet within a Gringotts safe. 

“I’m so sorry. It’s for the best.” Nana apologised as she struggled to catch her breath. He didn’t want to watch anymore but couldn’t tear his eyes away as the old woman’s wand pointed towards her family.

“Obliviate.” She whispered.

A blinding flash of white light and Draco found himself immobile with shock. Blinking rapidly, his stomach twisted with nausea and horror as Hermione’s beloved Nana pack away the memories into a carpet bag. Frank and Elizabeth lay asleep, peacefully unaware of the monumental change in their lives. Condemned to live their lives without any memories of their past, their heritage.

A bitter sob erupted. Pulled into focus, he found Hermione on the floor howling her pain in shuddering cries. On instinct, he pulled her upright and held her by the shoulders as the pensieve lifted them out of the memory and back into the old vault, holding irreplaceable treasures of a past life.

The witch cried against his shoulder, his robes a sponge to soak her tears. Slowly he guided her out of the vault, into the rickety cart and out of Gringotts. Almost numb to the painful truth, all he could do was get them both out and into a safe haven. All whilst maintaining a firm arm around Hermione.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My eternal gratitude to Tridogmom for being the best beta ever and TheNoobLife for the gorgeous aesthetic for this story.


	6. Grangers Found

**28 November 20:38**

“You should try to eat something.” 

A plate of plain buttered toast was placed beside her. Hermione didn’t have the appetite for it.

“I’m not hungry.” She continued to cling onto her duvet covers. 

“Then how about a cup of tea. I’ve found chamomile in your cupboard.” 

The food was vanished away and a steaming cup of tea appeared. The mattress dipped at her feet and Draco sat on the edge of her bed, watching her wallow in sadness. She wondered if he enjoyed seeing her like this. Low and broken-hearted.

“Please. Have some tea.” He pleaded. “At least humour me for the effort I went through from using a Muggle kitchen for the first time.”

Sitting up, still wearing the clothes she wore all day, she took her mug of tea. Carefully blowing on it, the aroma at least calmed her raw nerves. He stared at her, or at her bare arm. The arm that had ‘Mudblood’ carved into it.

“You don’t have to stay Malfoy.”

She didn’t need him here, sat by her bed and trying to comfort her. It most certainly painted an odd picture. The entitled Draco Malfoy sat at the end of her bed in her childhood home. Hermione wasn’t sure why but she didn’t have enough energy to find out.

“True. But I don’t have anywhere else to be right now. May as well make sure you’re not a mess.” He reasoned. 

They sat in silence as Hermione sipped her tea and Draco stared around her room. 

“Can I tell you something?” He asked softly. His gaze not meeting hers.

“Sure.”

“I’m sorry for people like my parents, my aunt and all of Voldemort’s followers. Truly.” 

Their eyes met and Hermione swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry for what happened to your family. They made sacrifices. You made sacrifices because…” Silver eyes blinked rapidly. “Because you loved each other.” 

Draco’s head dropped in despair.

“I feel so guilty right now because your family lost so much and I can’t shake off the feeling of wishing to be loved that much too.”

It dawned on Hermione in an unexpected way. Draco Malfoy was jealous of her. Of her family’s love for each other. 

“Malfoy! Stop it!” She ordered. “Your mother loves you unconditionally. She risked her life to save Harry Potter from Voldemort, just so she could save you!” 

Taken aback, he stared at her wide eyed and a little frightened.

“You are loved Draco.” She whispered. “You may not feel like that today, but your mother loves you. One day, someone special in your life is going to come along and she, or he will love you. They will sacrifice anything to keep you safe.”

The room shrunk in size as he shuffled along the bed towards her.

“It’s not just about being loved Granger. Some days, I think about finding someone I can love unconditionally too.”

Hermione’s heart thumped heavily against her chest. It was as if she saw him for the first time. The man who had hidden his deepest and loneliest desire under layers of pretension and privilege. Now he laid his fears bare to her. How had she never noticed how his eyes swirled like molten ore or how nice he smelt. 

“You might. According to my papa, even a Squib like him found someone to love.”

To call her own father a Squib felt strange on her tongue. Draco smiled back at her and it took her breath away. 

“Thanks Granger. It’s getting late.” The blond stood up, breaking their shared moment of intimacy. 

“I’ll see you soon.” Hermione could only nod in response as he let himself out of her house. 

**30 November 16:30**

“You said B.A.T.S. form E, section 3.7 and 9.4!” Hermione tried to reign in her temper but Julian, the Ministry’s most obtuse employee of the year, tested her patience.

“Yes, but you have filled out part A of these forms, not part B. You will need to complete the forms again for your application.” He explained patronisingly.

Snatching up her wrong forms and a couple of new ones on the way out, she left before there’s an opportunity to hex the man.

**2 December 17:45**

“Granger!” 

Hermione turned around in the Ministry foyer and was surprised to see Draco walking towards her. They haven’t seen each other in a few days since she thought that he had no reason to stay in touch with her anymore. 

“Are you thirsty?” He asked.

“What?” Hermione asked confusedly. The blond seemed flustered and uncomfortable.

“Do you want to get a quick drink at the pub? Now that you’ve finished work.” 

“Oh.” It took the witch by surprise, as she couldn’t comprehend why he would invite her when their business has concluded. But a part of her was curious to find out.

“Look if you got other things to do, don’t worry. I was only dropping through the Ministry anyway -”

“Sure. Where do you want to go?” She interrupted before he said any more to back out.

Draco was taken aback, but his expression changed to one of casual nonchalance.

“Let’s go to Hogsmeade.”

They walked together to the Ministry apparition point and Apparated to Hogsmeade.

**2 December 18:02**

“What were you doing at the Ministry today?” Hermione asked him, whilst nursing her glass of butterbeer. 

“I had an appointment,” Draco replied. For the past few days, he tried to write her a letter. But mostly ended up throwing balls of parchment everywhere. So today, he went down to the Ministry and just waited until she finished work. 

That days’ events ran through his mind in circles. The vault, the memories and the way Hermione looked at him in her bedroom. 

“I did some research in the Manor’s library and I found something that belonged to my grandmother you might be interested in.”

Pulling out an envelope, he placed it in between them. Tentatively Hermione opened the envelope and laid out a handful of old photographs that moved and waved. Pointing his finger on one photograph of a couple who he knew were in the rose garden of the Manor. 

“I recognised her in this photo. She’s a lot younger than her memories.”

“Nana!” Hermione squealed with delight. She held up the photo and Draco smiled at the way her face lit up. 

“You should read the back of the photo.” He explained, feeling excited once more.

“Geraint and Helen Ollivander. Tea party 1949.” Hermione’s brows furrowed together as she processed the information. 

“I thought that was odd, but then look at this picture here.” 

Holding up another picture, Hermione saw a pair of young women in their Hogwarts uniforms near the Clocktower. Draco paid close attention to her flipping the photo and read the small inscription at the back. 

“Helen Dagworth-Granger and I. Year four.” She read quietly.

Hermione’s hand went up to her mouth. Slowly she carefully took all the photos and placed them back in the envelope. Everything had fallen into place. His heart leapt at witnessing her figure out the puzzle pieces of the family tree. Perhaps she might be interested in taking another excursion to find out about her great grandparents...

“Thank you for helping me with this. I know you weren’t genuine about the whole journey at first but I appreciate your support.” Draco grinned at her appreciation.

“I wish you the best of luck with everything.” 

Wait! Is she calling off their… search? Arrangement? 

“Hold on! What do you mean?” He interrupted in a mild panic.

This can’t be what he thinks is happening.

“Well.” she looked down at the envelope, avoiding his gaze. “You don’t have to help me anymore. I’ve taken enough of your time and money as it is.”

“Forget money. I want to do this.” 

Hermione stared at him completely baffled. Why doesn’t she understand that he has spent days trying to write to her and burning the midnight oil in a musty old library.

“You do?”

“Yes.” He confessed. He realised he very much did.

“Is this because you know I’m a… Pureblood?”

“Screw the Pureblood-Mudblood nonsense. That’s not why I want to do it.”

“Then why?”

Truthfully he couldn’t quite answer it. He just knew it was more than that. Did he love her? No. Did he like her? Most likely.

“I have grown fond of you Granger. Fawley? Hermione. Is it wrong to want to spend time with people I like?”

The witch bit her lips as she contemplated. His heart jumped to his throat, as he watched the cogs in her brain tick. Truth be told, when she’s in thought, her face was rather adorable.

“I suppose not.” 

“Good.” He sighed in relief.

An awkward long silence hung between them. Neither knowing what to do in their new association with each other. Finally Hermione was the first to speak.

“I’m getting hungry. Do you want to get some dinner? As friends?”

He grinned at her. 

“What do you want to have? My treat.” Standing up and offering his hand. Hermione took it to stand and his stomach turned in a complex Quidditch manoeuvre. Friends? He wasn’t sure how long that would last. Especially in a good way.

**2 Years 8 Months Later**

It has been a blessedly long time since Hermione has been to B.A.T.S. in the Ministry and it’s unfortunate that the streak had to be broken today However on this day, she had an important task to do. A task that couldn’t be put off any longer.

Strolling up to the counter, she wasn’t surprised to see Julian, who has gone completely bald since her last visit. She stood patiently as he ignored her presence while he read and initialled the corners of a multi-page document he was reading. Before it was filed away at the most tedious pace. Hermione took a deep breath. Today she has patience by the cauldron-load and Julian may try but she will stay calm. Hopefully. Slowly he raised his head and stared directly at her.

“Yes?” He asked.

“I’m here to file my application to have my name changed.” 

A neat stack of documents hit the counter with a satisfying thump. Julian only looked down his nose at them. Licking his thumb, he flipped through the papers and scanned them at a snail’s pace. Hermione repeated her mantra of patience and serenity over in her mind.

“And where is your witness?” Julian asked, his finger stuck on the blank line on a pink form.

“He’s on his way.” She explained with a forced smile of serenity.

“I cannot process this application until your witness has signed these papers. You will need to take them away and have them signed and dated again. I can give you a new set of -”

The door flung open with a bang, startling both the dull bureaucrat and Hermione to turn around. The witch beamed at the new visitor. Her saviour from a slow torturous death.

“Sorry I’m late. The  _ Minister of Magic _ wanted to have a quick chat.” Draco swanned in and placed his arm around her, to which she could smile gratefully at his impeccable timing.

“This is my witness. Where does he need to sign?” 

Hastily Hermione put a quill in Draco’s hand. Julian had no choice but to give the two of them a dirty look before proceeding.

“He needs to sign and date here, here and here.” Draco calmly signed each space indicated to him. 

“And what is his relation to you, the applicant?” Julian pointed at the blank line where Draco was supposed to share this bit of information.

“I’m her fiancé.” The blond said proudly, his arm - still wrapped around her waist tightened. 

“To clarify you will be taking  _ his name _ ?” Julian looked at the two of them as if they had dirt on their faces.

“In part, yes.” Hermione could barely contain her own excitement. “I can’t wait for us to be Mr and Mrs Fawley-Granger-Malfoys.” She beamed and couldn’t resist planting a kiss on Draco’s lips. 

“Oh good grief.” The bureaucrat sighed. “Modern couples these days. Why can’t they keep it simple? Creating extra workload for administrators like me. As if we don’t get enough flack.” He mumbled along as he took their joint application and filed it. 

He could scream and vent his frustrations at the couple all he wants. Hermione couldn’t be happier to start building a new part of her family tree with Draco. That made the many frustrations with B.A.T.S. all worth it.

  
  
  



End file.
